


shoes, clothes, you

by huijosh (triggerswaggiehavoc)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 11:12:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13457022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triggerswaggiehavoc/pseuds/huijosh
Summary: Drabble for the prompt "moving in together"





	shoes, clothes, you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xumyuho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xumyuho/gifts).



> my light and angel aalo, thank you so much for being the first and potentially only person to ask me for a drabble and giving me an excuse to write more jeonghao (even if my usual would be around 10x this many words). i hope you like it and it satisfies you, and i hope someday i can reuse this again and make it even longer and more evident how stupidly in love they are. thank you so much ilysm forever and after that

Jeonghan sets the last box down and huffs out an exhausted breath, blowing hair off his eyes. Beside him, Minghao looks just as tired, slumping against a stack of other boxes five high. They’re all labeled in Jeonghan’s sloppy handwriting, black marker slanting up the side: shoes, clothes, dishes, towels. It never occurs to you how much stuff you really have, Jeonghan thinks, until you have to pack it all into boxes and haul it somewhere else.

He takes a look around at the apartment. It’s not the biggest, but he’s convincing himself it only seems cramped because there’s twenty boxes shoved in every corner of every room. If he pushes them out of the way, he can envision what it’s going to look like, once all the towels are folded in the linen closet and the pots are under the cabinets. They’ll get a couch, he thinks and they can put it over there, by the window. A bookshelf, since Minghao loves to read. A coffee table that will act more like an ottoman. The more he stares, the more that imaginary couch is starting to look like a nice spot to lie down.

“What are you doing?” Minghao asks when he abandons the box he was only seconds from opening to walk into their tiny, barren living room.

“Taking a break,” Jeonghan tells him, squatting to the floor. Then he sits. Then he lies down. Minghao groans.

“A break from what?” he asks. He pads over and sits on the carpet beside Jeonghan’s head to poke at his ear. The rug is firm but soft, smells like it’s just been cleaned. “We haven’t done anything yet.”

“I’m tired, Minghao,” Jeonghan moans, feeling around beside him until he grabs Minghao’s leg. “The day is so long. And we have so much stuff.”

“We do have so much stuff,” Minghao agrees, “and if we don’t get all of it unpacked, we won’t be able to sleep in a bed tonight.”

“Who needs a bed?” Jeonghan snuggles closer into the floor. “This carpet is so soft.” Minghao sighs and brushes Jeonghan’s hair behind his ear.

“What in god’s name was I thinking moving in with you?”

“That you love me,” Jeonghan teases. He tugs at Minghao’s leg. “Come on, lie down. We can start unpacking in a little bit.”

“It’s never just a little bit with you,” Minghao sighs, but he lies down anyway, shoulder bumping right against Jeonghan’s and feet sticking past his, almost into the kitchen. Jeonghan feels fingers slip through his own while he keeps watch on the ceiling. Warmth buds through his palm, up his arm, into his chest.

“It’s really ours,” he muses, eyes tracing the soft white lines of the ceiling, the water stains and patches of repair. “Our home.”

“It’ll feel more like it once we unpack everything,” Minghao tells him with a nudge from the elbow.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jeonghan closes his eyes, and he can imagine beyond the black behind his lids. He traces a face on the ceiling above him, soft lips and round nose and shining eyes. One he knows. One he loves. “We have the rest of our lease to unpack it all. Let’s just lay here a little longer.”

“I guess you’re right,” Minghao breathes. He inches closer, until their heartbeats start bleeding into each other and becoming the same, chests rising and falling in the same even tempo. His thumb ghosts back and forth over the back of Jeonghan’s hand, warm and regular, and all the breath in Jeonghan’s chest is flower petals. As he feels the grain of the carpet imprint itself on his back, he thinks both that home is not a place and that he’s glad to have found it.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! will my regular subscribers get an email notification of this? i don't fucking know. anyway i'm doing drabbles for coffee on ko-fi which you can learn more about [here](https://twitter.com/ultjosh/status/955315666801905664) and our dearest xumyuho was gracious enough to want one. very short, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!!


End file.
